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Henry Taprell Dorling. The Scarlet Stripe--being the adventures of a naval surgeon
The Scarlet Stripe--being the adventures of a naval surgeon
Table of Contents
FOREWORD
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERI
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERII
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERIII
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERIV
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERV
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERVI
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERVII
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERVIII
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERIX
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERX
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERXI
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERXII
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERXIII
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERXIV
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERXV
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERXVI
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERXVII
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERXVIII
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERXIX
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERXX
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERXXI
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERXXII
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERXXIII
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERXXIV
THE SCARLET STRIPE CHAPTERXXV
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Henry Taprell Dorling
Published by Good Press, 2021
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I hadn’t a stomach pump, and if I had I shouldn’t have dared to use it. Instead, I gave him stiff doses of castor oil and calomel out of the medicine chest. He was a bit pale and wan next day, and complained bitterly of lack of sleep; but at the end of thirty-six hours was more or less his own cheery self again. I guarantee Mr. Eyers never heard the end of that particular incident. It was all over the ship in two hours, and all round the flotilla in forty-eight. I even heard him spinning the yarn, with suitable embellishments, against himself. But if I dared to mention it he glared at me like a wild beast. I was the villain of the piece.
Mr. Eyers had a fund of quaint information. It was he who gave me what he declared was an infallible recipe for becoming gloriously hilarious on a single glass of weak whisky and soda. Neither Mr. Eyers nor myself was the least given to the bottle; but no doubt he thought the tip might one day be useful to me. If he were to be believed, it was a recipe which was much favoured by chorus girls when they were feeling down in the dumps, though what the gunner knew about ladies of the chorus I never really discovered. He was a married man with a numerous progeny. Anyhow, the dodge was to drop cigarette ash into an ordinary tumbler of whisky and soda, which was then drunk in the usual way. Purely from curiosity, I tried it—indeed, we all tried it. Nothing whatever happened. The cigarette ash merely spoilt an otherwise passable tipple.
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